


Don't Need Candles and Cake

by latinaeinstein (oneforyourfire)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Birthday Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-08-24 05:19:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16633697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneforyourfire/pseuds/latinaeinstein
Summary: "Unwrap me. Don't you want to, Sehunnie?"





	Don't Need Candles and Cake

**Author's Note:**

> 2014 birthday fic, sehun edition

There's the Zhang Yixing that belongs to every one else—charismastic, caring, warm, _Lay_ , the _hyung_ , the _ge_ , the _Changsha darling_ , the absent-minded, tender-hearted, soft-eyed man that loves everybody and is loved by everybody in return—and then there's the one that belongs just to Sehun. To him _most_.

It was _Lay_ that posted a blurry weibo selca at 12AM KST—Sehun tilting his head and smirking in practiced fierceness, while Yixing smiled dreamily, pressing his cheek against Sehun's—captioned with an "our precious little maknae." Uploaded on the first try (because it's the most honest, you exactly as you are when you gained another year), despite Sehun's protests about lighting and the angle of his chin.

It was Yixing hyung, Yixing ge that rumpled his hair later that morning, thumbing the dark bangs out of his eyes, as he drawled about how thankful he was for him. How handsome he was. How big, too. (Beside him, on the kitchen table, Chanyeol almost choked on his bagel, but recovered quickly with a cough as Sehun played the role of maknae in turn, preening, arching towards Yixing's affectionate, indulgent caress).

And it was the Changsha darling, the musical prodigy, that had serenaded Sehun just an hour before. Strumming his guitar quietly, singing in Chinese because that's the language of my heart, Sehun. Sehun had only been able to make out something about loving him, about the galaxies in his eyes, the promise of forever in the wandering pads of his fingers.  Zhang Yixing, _his_ , ever easy with his confession, with his affection, with his _love_ , and Sehun had felt full to bursting with the weight of it. He had bitten his lower lip hard to stop the flow of tears as the achingly beautiful melody curled tight around his skin, and Yixing's husky voice carried heavy across the room, strong, dripping with tenderness, rising and falling with the sibilant tones.

"It's kind of—I'll ask Lu ge or Yifan ge to translate it for you," he'd smiled, tugging self consciously at his ear.

And it had also been part of that tender-hearted man, a part of that hyung, that rubbed slowly just along Sehun's lashline, thumbing away tears. "But it's—ah—it's about how much I love you."

And it had been so fucking special—more than special enough—a Yixing that belonged almost exclusively to him, as the elder had pulled him forward, smiling into the kiss he'd pressed to Sehun's mouth. Whisper-soft, brimming with affection, with love, love, love.

(But that Yixing was still tamer, more languid, only the slightest smolder in his sleepy brown eyes as he'd pulled away, patted Sehun's thigh for him to go eat his birthday dinner, he had something planned for later)

 

But it's _decidedly_ Sehun's Yixing, _his_ , only for him to keep, that sits on his bed right now.

Cheeks flushed, bottom lip between his teeth, completely naked, save for the red bow wrapped loose around his erection. He meets his eyes in the dim lighting, and Sehun drops the piece of birthday cake he'd snuck into the room for him with a reverent curse.

Sehun swallows slow and thick and bites back a groan. This Yixing is _explicitly_ his. Easy-going and soft, tender, like the other Yixings, only with a fire in his eyes, with a sinful promise in the long, lean, line of his nude body.

"You can—you can open it or not—" Yixing's eyelashes flutter downwards in something like feigned—maybe even real—shyness. Sehun's eyes drop towards his erection, stay there. And confidence surges into the sudden squareness of Yixing's shoulders, into the sharpness of his cocked eyebrow, and the brazen spread of his pale thighs. He releases his bottom lip and beckons Sehun over with the slow, rippling curl of his fingers.

Sehun falls heavily to his knees on the edge of his mattress, fingers skittering along warm, firm flesh as he catches Yixing's eyes in his own. Yixing curls a hand around the nape of his neck, dragging him closer, so that Sehun's nosing at Yixing's belly and Yixing's cock is nudging hot and insistent against his cottoned chest.

"I got myself ready for you, you know," he drawls, voice thick with want. His warm palms shift, so that he's cradling Sehun's face, brushing his fingers along Sehun's jawline, callouses catching on the trembling skin. " _Unwrap_ me." Sehun's thumbs digs into Yixing's hipbones, and Yixing arches. "Don't you want to, Sehunie?"

"I want to, hyung. I want to."

He leans forward, twining his fingers into the red ribbon, the silky fabric sliding soothingly over his skin. Yixing moans at the relief of pressure as Sehun tugs him free, and Sehun licks at Yixing's navel as he twists the material around his knuckles and uses the ends to tease along the slit of his cock. Sehun wraps a fist around him, licking along his rippling muscles as he strokes. Yixing writhes forward with a soft, breathy moan. His eyelashes flutter, and his throat bobs as he pants into Sehun's hair.

"I'm already ready for you," Yixing reminds him, hands heavy on his cheek, urging him upwards. "Get ready for me."

Sehun shakes his head petulantly. He's sure to breath hot and heavy against Yixing's chest, biting a nipple and then soothing the sting with his tongue. Yixing trembles, skin breaking out in goosebumps. "I'm unwrapping my present," Sehun insists. "Nice and slow."

Yixing's blunt fingernails dig into his forearms as Sehun mouths more deliberately, more urgently, sucking hard at a dusty pink nipple, licking sloppily. Yixing takes to scratching along his scalp, holding him there even as he protests. Sehun shifts, sucks the other into his mouth, as he tightens his hold on Yixing's cock, and Yixing curses reverently in Mandarin. Sehun shivers in response, quickening his pace.

"Shixun, I'm so ready for you," he moans, needy, fucking forward into Sehun's hold. " _Shixun_."

Sehun rises to straddle him, falling heavily on his spread legs. He tries to loll forward to watch—catching a brief, dizzying display of Yixing's flushed muscled skin, of the quiver of his aching cock—but Yixing tugs him upward harshly. He kisses him fiercely, tongue demanding, breath hot and wet against his lips. And there's passion and lust in the way he nips at Sehun's bottom lip. Sehun feels dizzy with the heady promise of Yixing's undivided attention, with the overwhelming devastation of his enthusiasm. Yixing is too much like this. Too, too much.

"Don't you want to?" Yixing continues. "Don't you want to? _Birthday boy_? My _Shixun_?"

Sehun wants so fucking badly, pulls back to tear at his own clothing to prove it. Yixing murmurs in approval, fingers sliding up his back, molding around his shoulder blades. Sehun struggles out of his pants and boxers, gets them tangled somewhere around his knees, as Yixing pulls him in even tighter, cock hard as it smears against his belly, eyes heavy-lidded—but so _alive_ , burning, burning, burning—as they catch his.

"How ready?" Sehun rasps. His hands glide down Yixing's sides, thumbs rubbing over the hair at Yixing's navel, grip no longer light and teasing, but tight, an anchor.

Yixing licks along his jawline, smiling into his skin. " _Completely_."

Sehun's breath hitches. His hips lurch forward, and he curses as his erection rubs against Yixing's. Yixing arches, baring his throat. He trembles, whimpering loudly as Sehun lolls forward—drunk with want—to mouth at it. Yixing squirms, bucks up toward the pressure of Sehun's lips, Sehun's tongue, Sehun's teeth. "I'm ready for you, too," Sehun groans, speaking directly against the quivering flesh. Yixing twitches against his belly button, and Sehun presses down even harder.

"Open me up, Shixun," he urges. "Fuck me open."

Sehun chokes on a moan, sucking a dark mark on the hollow of Yixing's throat, provoking a broken whine. And Sehun is grateful for the filthy Korean that Yixing has made a point of learning over the past year, as Yixing continues to demand, remind him that he's ready, _so_ fucking ready, stretched out and _aching_ , that Yixing's is his for the taking, so _desperate_ for it, Shixun please. I'm your present. Don't you want me. Don't you want me.

"I love you so much," Sehun pants, biting down. "So fucking much."

Yixing falls back with a heady thud, dragging Sehun with him. Sehun kicks his pants and boxers completely off, grinds down heavy and hard, and Yixing's legs spread easily, thighs wrapping tight around Sehun's waist, urging him down even harder. Even faster. Their foreheads knock together as Sehun eagerly complies.

"I'm glad you were born," Yixing whispers, ghosting his fingers over Sehun's temple in a tender, tender caress even as he presses forward with heaving jerks of his hips. "I'm glad that I met you. I'm glad I'm yours."

"Mine. _Mine_ , hyung."

Sehun's fingers by contrast become even more demanding, pressing insistently, just to be sure, as Yixing moans. And Yixing reaches behind him, fumbles with a foil packet.

"Always, always, always," Yixing agrees hotly, arching sharply, undulating beautifully as Sehun presses fully inside. Yixing is hot, tight, slick with lube, with prior preparation. His body clenches to keep him inside, grooved warmth fluttering around his hypersensitive cock and oh _God_ , oh _God_ , oh _God_.

Sehun soothes over his hipbones as he starts slow, deep, deep, deep. Yixing grinds back hard, eager, urging him faster. His bangs dampen with sweat, plaster to his forehead as he hooks an elbow over Sehun's shoulders, digs his ankles into Sehun's ass. His lips are slick and puffy as he whimpers Sehun's name. And Sehun wants to fucking savor it. Register every detail. Catalog every breathy, needy sound. The taste of Yixing's sweaty, perfect skin. The warmth of Yixing's thighs, smacking against his with every forceful, heaving descent. The hard, hard press of Yixing's blunt fingers, skittering along his shoulder blades, scrambling for purchase. And that exquisite, perfect, impossible heat, welcoming him inside.

But he's getting so caught up. It's so, so, _so_ fucking good. And Yixing seems so intent, so affected, so very much his. Through heavy eyelids, he watches the ripple of muscle, the tremble of arousal as Yixing grinds back against him. The air is thick with his soft, bitten-off moans.

Sehun gradually picks up speed. He angles himself deliberately, hooking one leg over his shoulder, and Yixing fucking sobs, scratching along his back almost to the point of pain. Voice husky, he begs him not to stop please please _please_. Sehun's biceps tremble from exertion. His head crashes forward in a dirty, drawn out moan.

"I'm close," he confesses, and one of Yixing's hands drop from his shoulder to his own cock, stroking slow and hard, the way he likes. The other falls heavily on his face, thumbing over his eyebrow. Sehun meets his glazed, heavy eyes. And there's, as always, overwhelming tenderness beneath the heat of arousal. Sehun moans as Yixing continues to grind back. Smooth, gorgeous, Yixing moves like fucking water.

" _Please._ "

Sehun's inhales sharply, and he goes as hard and as fast as he can manage, thrusts heavy, measured, punctuated with louder moans, breathier whimpers. It keeps building building building. And then it becomes too much, and he groans as he's overwhelmed by it. His hip stutter to a stop and then fuck forward erratically, and he can feel Yixing tightening his grip around him, securing him, as he crashes forward, falling over the edge. Sehun bites down on the side of Yixing's neck as he collapses, and he can feel the elder tense suddenly, arch sharply as he comes, too. Fluid and beautiful, thrashing as he clenches tight, tight, tight around Sehun's cock.

" _Fuck_ ," Sehun manages, later, after he's pulled out and disposed of his condom, cuddled into Yixing's warm, pliant, perfect, familiar body.

Yixing smiles against the nape of his neck as he fits one thigh between his, wraps an arm loose but secure around his waist. "Happy birthday."


End file.
